Chills of John Watson
by sarlot
Summary: John Watson is ill, but he is refusing go to bed. Sherlock needs to solve his new case, so he leaves John.


Chills of John Watson

Autor´s notes: This is my first fanfiction with Sherlock/John, first I have written it in Czech, but I wanted try something new, I have translated in English.

My special thanks belong to I'mThePrincessLoveMe, who was so kind and corrected my story.

"John, could you please stop coughing? I need some peace to think," growled Sherlock. His lips pulled into a thin line and the dissatisfaction of the frown mirrored in his eyes.  
"I'm a little ill. Of course I'm coughing," John paused to clear his throat, but Sherlock interrupted him.  
"You should go to bed. I'll get Mrs. Hudson to prepare to you tea."  
"I don't need to lie. I'm not that bad." returned John calmly and sat down in the armchair to fire.  
"Your eyes are irritated, you cough every two minutes. You are tired and I see, your head hurts to you. You took a pill, but it didn't help, you are probably in the habit of doing it overly often. You put two pullovers instead of one, so you have a common cold. Must I continue, or you be willing to admit you really need to go to bed?"  
"Hmm. Yeah, sure."  
"Do you want me to make you that tea by myself?" offered Sherlock. His face was again unreadable. Now, just like when he proved it to John, he had right, was a high time return to the case. He liked John´s company, but this time it just wasn't be suitable for him. Several times he rubbed his temples in frustration. He needed silence. He is going escape into his head and he needs silence.  
"That'd be kind, without sugar, please," John smirked, happy with the arrangement.  
"Of course, you never take a tea, I don't need to be a detective to know it, I wouldn't put it to you there," Sherlock didn't deny one more remark.  
"Of course," repeated John, but this time Sherlock didn't hear anger or sarcasm in that.  
"You really should go to bed," Sherlock advised him again, when he put a cup a tea in front of him. Unsweetened.  
"I´ll stay here a while and then I'll go. I´m a doctor after all, I know, how much I stand," he added, when he saw Sherlock´s skeptical look. "And you should go to, the case is troubling you."  
"Yes." Sherlock took a cover from second armchair and he wrapped John in it.  
It was indeed a strange gesture from Sherlock. John didn't know what he thought about it,  
but he liked it, when for once a big detective showed some interest.  
"I'll be back soon."  
"All right."

A few hours later Sherlock triumphantly breezed in flat 221b in Baker Street.  
He managed solve the case, wake Lestrade up and make Anderson angry. He was in a  
great mood and he is going to share it with John.  
John has been sitting in the armchair. It seems, he is shivering and in a cold sweat, his eyes squeezed shut. Sherlock was at him in few seconds. He didn't like that at all, that his lovely friend was tottering between fever and chills.  
"John? John?" Sherlock shaked him several times. John was mumbling something for himself and apparently it seems, he has signs of hallucinations. Heat radiated from his skin.  
"John?" he shaked him again. Sherlock wasn't used to situations where he had to help John.  
He didn't used to have these problems. He didn't want to move from him even a minute, but he needed something cold. He dipped a sheet into a cold water.  
John half woke up in the armchair while Sherlock was dipping the sheet.  
"Sherlock," he smiled, when he saw him, "How's the case was going?"  
"Fine, I solved it, but now don't talk right now. It will exhaust you," Sherlock admonished him, "I will take off your pullover, we have to bring you the temperature down." Sherlock has never imagined even in dreams, one day he perhaps would get into the situation when he would take off John's clothes. But he saw nothing weird on it to his surprise, because even he worried extremely about John, his mind was still pure.  
"I'm cold," mumbled, when Sherlock took the checkered shirt off of him.  
Sherlock´s fingers added cold bandages on John´s skin so naturally, it wasn't a change, they didn't notice any difference.  
"If I didn't know you, I would say you like stripping me naked," laughed John in hoarse voice.  
"Shut up," Sherlock for appearance's sake cast his ice eyes at him, even though he was rather happy.  
"You are really good in this. I would say better that Jenette." Sherlock stopped for an instant. He hated it when John talked about his girlfriends. Especially not about the current ones, but he can't resist satisfaction that John said he was better than some... Jenette. A contented smile spread across his face.  
"I give you some pills and then you will finally go to the bed. Your temperature fell a little bit, but we will risk nothing."  
"Good." Sherlock supported John as he walked him to his bedroom. He wrapped hand around naked skin and if John wasn't in such bad condition, he would may think why John's bedroom, it's not any farther to Sherlock's bedroom.  
"Will you stay here?" John asked, when he finally was lying in his bed.  
"Yes, I will sit in a chair." Sherlock responded quickly.  
"You can lay next to me. The bed is big enough for both of us. I don't want you to sleep in the chair, you will feel all run down in the morning." Sherlock wanted raise an objection, that these things didn't happen to him and that he can postpone something so unneeded like human sleep until later, but John´s eyes and quiet voice in his head convinced him, that this isn't maybe so bad an idea.  
Sherlock slipped into the bed and lay next to John. Sherlock has never slept with someone in the same bed. He felt strange. His muscles were tensed.  
"I'm not going to hurt to you," mumbled John, when he turned to Sherlock.  
"I know," said Sherlock, nevertheless he even didn't know why he was so nervous. "I'm sorry."  
"For what?"  
"I was supposed to stay with you here."  
"You are here now. You have really nice cologne."  
"It's new. You should sleep."  
"Yes, I should. But you'll leave again when I fall asleep."  
"No. Not again," Sherlock breathed out and he felt, that muscles almost cramped by this statement. John's hand inadvertently slid into the his. He didn't want to give up that hand and he didn't. He was lying there until the morning.  
And it wasn't last time.


End file.
